Page 54 of Wrath
Catching the direction of her thoughts, he released his hold on her.
“No!” She forced his hands back to her hips. “Keep them there. We’re doing this, and you’re going to resist your temper. You’re going to control your strength.”
His eyes darkened. “You didn’t answer me.”
“And I’m not going to. My feelings don’t factor into this situation. We’re talking about you. Why did you hide your voice for all these months? What are you afraid of?”
He didn’t reply, so she kept pushing.
“You’re used to getting what you want. You’re used to winning, to being the best. And the fact that someone you trusted took advantage of that, you couldn’t stand it. It was better to stay silent. All the better to keep yourself from defending your actions, from leaving your family, from… from apologizing for the hurt you caused. Why speak when you could ignore the fallout instead. Yes, Wyatt, I’m calling you a coward.”
His fingers flexed on her hips, and he glowered. He’d retreated back into silence, so maybe she was right. Maybe his lack of voice was all linked to his insecurity, or maybe… he knew he wasn’t a coward. She didn’t really believe it either, but she was close to riling him. She thought back to the last time he almost lost his temper. She’d called him a liar.
“You know what? I don’t know what to believe. One minute you’re running, the next you’re fighting. Maybe you’re not a coward, but youarea liar. All this is an act, and you love it. You’re just like the woman who betrayed you. You love manipulating and—”
Wrath flared in his expression. In that moment he wanted to hurt her. She could see it in his face. His grip tightened, and the pressure on her hips took on a sharp sting.
“Liar,” she whispered. “You’re the liar, just like your ex-fiancée.”
He squeezed. She winced.
Instantly, he relaxed, surprised. “You want me to hurt you.”
“What? That’s ridiculous.”
He rolled his shoulders smugly, suddenly at peace with his thoughts. “You think that if I do, then you have an easy way out of this.”
“There is no this,koteczek. I’m just helping you because you helped me.”
But instead of answering, he put a heavy palm over her heart. Nothing. He said nothing, but stared at her and felt her heart rate jack-hammering beneath his touch. It was a moment of unrestrained connection that amplified with each gust of wind against their skin. Thunder rolled gently in the distance. She smelled ozone in the air. Misha couldn’t tell where her heart ended, and the storm began.
“This is real,” he murmured. “Don’t run away from it.”
A wet blob of rain hit her cheek. Then another. And another.
Before long, the smattering drops came down harder. Misha closed her eyes and raised her face to the sky, letting the sensation of water wash away the tears brimming in her eyes. He was right. She accused him of running, but it had been her excuse her entire life. Don’t get too involved, run from love, run from emotional risk because the pain of losing someone wasn’t worth it. But… it was more than that.
She didn’t believeshewas worth it. She wasn’t worth the pain someone else would feel when they lost her. Better not to get close, not let someone hurt that bad. Better to leave this earth without making a dent in it… but as the thoughts formed in her head, she knew her ideology was full of holes. How could you be in someone’s life without love? That pain you felt when they died was a tribute to that love. That pain proved your worth.
Finally understanding her problem somehow… liberated her. She smiled at the beautiful sky, watching the lines of rain slash down. You can’t have love without pain, and without any of it, there was nothing.
Wyatt’s hand slid to hers and he tugged, directing her to the ladder. He was already a step down, but she resisted. They stared at each other. Water sluiced down his body, running in rivulets that delineated all the hard lines of his torso. Thick black lashes spiked, and his cheeks took on a flushed glow. With his free hand, he pushed back the stringy, jet-black locks from his face. Powerful. Built. So goddamned sexy. How on earth could she pretend to not want him any longer? Without the feelings he evoked in her, she was empty. She was nothing. She didn’t want that anymore.
“No,” she said. “Let’s stay.”
He glanced up at the sky. “But it’s raining.”
“Exactly, silly. We don’t run from the rain. We make love in the rain.”
Twenty-Five
With one footon the top ladder rung, and one foot on the water tank, Wyatt looked up at the woman whose hand he held. Rain spilled from the turbulent sky, but it was warm and gentling on his skin. It refreshed, it cleansed, and it wiped the slate clean.
An angel in the flesh, Misha looked down at Wyatt, clearly with impure thoughts radiating from her eyes. Her devious intent hit every male button in his body. It always had. She could entice the worst and best from him with a glance. His eyes trailed down her long neck to where nipples peaked through her wet slouchy shirt.
No, silly. We don’t run from the rain. We make love in the rain.
Every bone in his body ached to do that—make love to her, to claim her for his own. This was the opportunity he’d waited for, yet… something stood in the way. She used sex as another wall around her heart, and Wyatt didn’t want half of her, he wanted all of her.
